


Wordless Communication

by bhgeorge19



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 23:28:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/932355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bhgeorge19/pseuds/bhgeorge19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another drabble commission. Kurogane and Fai/Fye(/Fay/Foh/Fum call him what you want) have some outdoors sex in a world where Mokona is absent, thus leaving them unable to speak the same language.</p><p>Spoilers for the end of the series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wordless Communication

**PROLOGUE**

 

Several worlds ago, Shaoran turned to Kurogane, who felt apt to mentor the boy, and asked him this: Kurogane-san, besides swordsmanship, what would you say is the next important lesson I should learn?

 

Kurogane didn’t think long before answering: “Understanding your comrades wordlessly.” At the time, he added this with nearly-audible parenthesis: “Specially when your comrades are as loud as the guy in the back seat.”

 

Never would Kurogane deny the mage the right to ride shotgun. Fai and Mokona had decided to ask ‘are we there yet?’ with clockwork regularity.

 

But despite the fact he’d said so as part of the mental process of roaring “Shut up, or I’ll dump you RIGHT here in the middle of the road!” (to which Fai responded by becoming awfully quiet, waiting five seconds, and asking “but are we there yet?”), Kurogane had meant it. After all, wordless communication wasn’t merely a battlefield convenience, but both a sign of trust, and a means of building it. And for them, it was a survival skill: Kurogane could not count on their resident marshmallow monster to translate for them all the time, as worlds such as Yama had come to prove.

 

\---

 

Now, after so many months of travel, it had happened again.

 

He and the mage had woken from their inconvenient fall from the heavens as wrought by a poorly calculated world jump atop old stone ruins, in a world with a golden sky that felt higher and further away from the land than they’d seen before. The sky burned, with crests of white or rust cutting through the yellow, adding a sort of enchanting beauty to the gigantic statues of animal-headed idols that surrounded the ruins, most of which had been had been already half-devoured by an overgrowth that stretched out from the thick jungle surrounding the site. Off to the distance were more giants of stone, rising from the maze of wood and green.

 

Though he didn’t have a poetic bone to him, Kurogane was good at picking out patterns. Furthermore, he had common sense, and so he quickly reached two deductions: one, that this was the sort of world where they’d have to watch their asses, as the beauty of a world was usually proportionate to how dangerous it was. Two, that they were standing on impressive, yet abandoned ruins: and any culture who could build something impressive wouldn’t abandon it unless it was for a very good reason.

 

That good reason, he found out, was giant bugs.

This happened when a wasp-like, silver creature about the size of his fist, taking advantage of his stunted state from having just regained consciousness, landed on his prosthetic arm and drove a stinger big enough through it to prove Kurogane’s distrust of “beautiful” worlds right. He was barely done taking out his sword when throwing knife hit the creature, leaving Kurogane to turn and see Fai waving at him merrily.

 

Then he spoke, and Kurogane realized Shaoran and Mokona weren’t anywhere in sight. Mostly because Fai spoke in his native tongue.

 

\---

 

Once upon a time, Fai, Kurogane, Shaoran had stopped by Yuuko’s shop, and out of curiosity, had requested to have Mokona’s translation “turned off”, so they could hear each other’s voices.

 

Watanuki, taking the role of impromptu linguistic commenter, had done his best to compare their voices to languages of earth.

 

Kurogane he almost understood: some of his vocabulary resembled Japanese, and he spoke like he’d been ripped out of the feudal era, in staccato words, each sharp like a dagger. Even without translation, you could tell he went straight to the point.

 

Shaoran spoke both fluent Cantonese and Japanese. He even has English. In an awkward moment, they asked him to talk like the clone did. His voice took a tone that Watanuki described as “slightly nasal, and hard to pin down, but it reminded him of a movie about ancient Persia.” With the unusual capacity to disconnect himself from the culture, brought on by the whole cloning thing, Shaoran explained that it was “a very formal way of talking, for someone his--my age.”

 

Then it was Fai’s turn to talk. Watanuki described it like “a scandinavian lumberjack singing with his nose pinched.” His words bounced in tones, sounding jolly at points, but with a sort of throaty roughness that made Kurogane, Watanuki and Shaoran edge away slightly, mostly because it all sounded like he was uttering a long string of nasty swear-words.

 

Mokona confirmed that was the case.

  
  


* * *

 

**WORDLESS COMMUNICATION**

 

Kurogane was not happy, mostly because he was in a jungle surrounded by killer insects, missing one arm, and barely able to understand his traveling companion. But he tried. Wordless communication was important.

 

They’d set up a few rules. Mostly, Fai would reserve name-calling for serious things, like giant wasps coming out of nowhere, or acid-spewing centipedes, or giant ants.

 

“Ku-ro-ga-ne...” Kurogane pointed at himself, while holding up the corpse of the giant wasp that had ruined his prosthetic arm.

 

Fai pointed at the bug and smiled. “Kurogane.”

 

“Iie! KU-RO-GA-NE,” Kurogane pointed at his chest repeatedly.

 

Fai blinked, brought up both hands and let them roam over Kurogane’s chest, whistling. “Kurogane tósin...” he said, and though Kurogane couldn’t understand the second word, he knew from tone alone that it was blush-worthy.

 

He slapped the hand aside, barking. “Ku-ro-ga-NE!” he said, roaring at the wasp, grabbing one of Fai’s wrists, using it to point at the creature, and then (letting go of the wrist) making a gesture of being surprised, reaching for his sword, and preparing himself to fight.

 

Fai arched his brows, staring for a while, nodding very slowly, jaw down, making a big comical display of his growing understanding. “Ooohh! Kurogane!” he pointed at the bug.

 

“Ahh.”

 

“Kurogane BUZZ BUZZ.”

 

“...Ahh.”

 

“Kuro-buzz,” Fai said then, doing a pistol gesture with his fingers and winking at Kurogane, who, defeated, shook his head and started walking into the jungle. With an amused snort, Fai chased after him. “Oh, don’t be silly, Kurobuzz, I’m just teasing,” he’d said. (To Kurogane, however, it sounded like “Jidän vitä tirmetat, faperä _Kurobuzz_ , bolen jain tiiusantepo...”)

 

So his answer: a simple grunt.

 

\---

There are things that get lost through the language barrier. Some, however, are clear when you know someone long enough. The first day wandering the jungle, Fai knew Kurogane was tense, but had chosen not to pay attention to it. Kurogane was being a problem-solver, and he never gave into panic, specially when he felt he was being depended on.

 

The second and third day lost in the jungle, Kurogane had come to terms with the fact it would take a while to navigate the jungle, and after the third centipede attack, they’d made a few advances in understanding how to avoid the creatures (mostly fire), but a major improvement was made upon discovering the creatures particularly feared the pheromones produced by those silver wasps, and avoided their territory.

 

They also discovered, several wasp attacks later, that Kurogane’s damaged prosthetic arm was highly attractive to those things. Thusly, and after setting several traps (which cost the damaged arm several more stinger holes), Kurogane and Fai made a perimeter out of wasp corpses. This, along with water and food, was enough for Kurogane to stop thinking about survival.

 

Come a week, Kurogane could think about himself again. Fai could tell, because Kurogane grunted more often.

 

Kurogane didn’t display pain openly, and to anyone. Fai knew he made himself ignore any bodily ache as long as there were more important things to think about, but even when that wasn’t the case, Kurogane didn’t just let anyone see his weak spots.

 

Nobody except Fai and Shaoran.

 

He was walking stiffly as of late. Fai had caught him trying to stretch his back, and rummaging through their supplies for some of the painkillers that they had come to carry along through dimensions (two or three unfortunate visits to worlds without generalized medicine had made Kurogane’s amputee condition somewhat difficult to bear, but the headaches he got from Fai and Mokona were his excuse for carrying the things with them.)

 

Fai knew that was a joke, though, inasmuch as Kurogane could joke, which most of the time was in the form of ‘all bark and no bite’ kinda comments. He only took them in cases of extreme need too. Because he understood Kurogane. The man refused any drink, medicine, or drug that reduced his capacity to feel. He only did it when the pain or the tension was too much.

 

The sun was high that afternoon.

 

Fai had been watching Kurogane from the shade of a branch that he’d turned into his official napping spot. And Kurogane had been popping his back muscles a bit more often than usual.

 

He decided to do something about it, dropping down from the branch noiselessly, and approaching the other man whilst he was distracted carrying some palm branches from the jungle to their campsite - they made for a good roof for their developing encampment - dropping it over an ever-growing pile

 

One sign that Kurogane trusted Fai (as far as anyone in their sane mind could) is that he didn’t consider him as a threat as Fai approached him from behind. He didn’t reel around, nor even acknowledge him.

 

Kurogane did acknowledge, however, the hands that came to roam across the outside of his thighs.

 

Kurogane dropped the palms and jerked up somewhat. “E-Eh?”

 

A musical response, playful and nasal, and delivered unnecessarily close to Kurogane’s ear. “Ku-ro-rin...”

 

He turned around, well, tried to but Fai’s proximity restrained his movement (not that Kurogane couldn’t overcome any physical resistance from Fai easily. In fact, he could.) So he stood there, peering over his shoulder, red eyes narrowing as he made an effort to decipher Fai’s current intentions.

 

His cheeks colored red when, barely a second of staring later, they’d become quite obvious.

 

He tried turning around again, but Fai’s arms had wrapped around him, and had gone for his belt buckle. Kurogane frowned.

 

“I’m busy,”  he grumbled under his breath, though unintelligible for Fai.

 

Fai responded by nibbling on his nape.

 

Kurogane hissed lightly, and tried to paw at Fai’s hands.

 

Again, there was something Fai understood out of this. If Kurogane wanted his hands off, he could’ve removed them faster than Fai could fight it, even with one arm. Heck, he just needed to say a single, sharp set of words and Fai would’ve gotten it just the same.

 

Fai knew that it was alright to remove the belt, and drop Kurogane’s pants down to come entangled on his boots.

 

He also knew Kurogane was about to shift his legs, to try and shuffle the cumbersome pants off. So he pushed Kurogane onto the pile of cushioning palms before he could get a chance to do that.

 

The ninja rolled around to roar at him, blushing furiously and still struggling to get out of his pants, tangled ankle-high. But Kurogane realized, very quickly, that this had been part of Fai’s evil plan all along. There smile, cat-like and impish-- first, a few feet above him... and then, within a couple of seconds, much lower... and much closer to his legs, since Fai had descended to get between them, occupying the space between his knees and resting both hands on Kurogane’s firm, muscular thighs.

 

Kurogane had sputtered something that needed no translation. It was a confused demand, and a flustered one at that.

 

Fai knew just how to answer that.

 

Both of his pale hands came to rest on Kurogane’s brazen-tan thighs, holding them somewhat apart while Fai’s fingers squeezed and came taut around the skin, thumbs pressing on tense muscles as Fai passed an appraising squeeze over them. The muscles resisted, and Fai whistled, as if awed by how much they did...

 

Aggressive action would be required, and so Fai came down towards them. He felt Kurogane stir and twitch to try to get away, but it wasn’t permitted-- Fai pushed his thighs down and held them still so that his lips could roam freely over Kurogane’s left thigh, mouthing over it until Fai’s brain finally settled on just the spot to start licking from. It was arbitrary, by all accounts, but Fai treated his instincts for this sort of thing with a certain, solemn respect, mostly because they had proven to deliver good results.

 

His tongue started trailing up, from down below, closer to Kurogane’s knee... and up towards his groin, which was still bound by the multiverse’s most unfortunate and resilient briefs, given what the dimensions of they had to contain.

 

Kurogane moaned lightly, and choked a bit on the sound.

 

Fai checked this as a victory in the art of ninja taming, and nipped softly at the skin before repeating the motion on Kurogane’s other thigh. It was a talent, really, what Fai had: the ability to make the most out of the tiniest little contact.

 

He sometimes didn’t even touch the skin: he just let his breath be the caress... a hot, and slow delivery of air, brushing Kurogane’s skin like feathers, and traveling all the way up to his straining underwear.

 

Right before Kurogane could gasp, could say something, or elicit one of his common growls, Fai’s fingers hooked around the waistband of the conveniently modern wardrobe. Having both experienced loincloths, Fai had to admit that these made undressing far easier. And this much Fai liked. He had never been patient.

 

“Why he-llo there!” he’d said when Kurogane’s large erection sprung out of the briefs, and while Kurogane couldn’t understand the language, the sing-song, teasing tone was enough to redden his cheeks almost the same color as Kurogane’s eyes.

 

There was another reason Fai liked these things. They were very good for constraining movement. While he smiled with a sort of feline curl, Fai lowered the briefs a bit.

 

Just a bit.

 

Kurogane squirmed, shuffling his weight and trying his best to get them further down than his thighs.

 

But Fai pushed both hands down on them, propping himself up in turn. Kurogane stopped moving, and instead focused on staring, wide-eyed, at Fai’s languid form as he restrained him and hovered - quite dangerously - over his erection.

 

Fai had the frame and demeanor (and slow, lazy metabolism) of certain big cats, even though his scrawny, thin looks made him seem more like a domestic one, perhaps a siamese-- and really, truly, in the realm of metaphors, Kurogane held the advantage when it came to size, frame, and comparisons to apex predators.

 

But at this moment, Kurogane was powerless under the grinning mage. He gulped.

 

Fai then leaned down and did the same. In one fell swoop too.

 

Kurogane’s legs tried to snap spread, while his hand shot to grab Fai’s hair. Heaving and groaning, he turned his attention heavenwards, to the tall, unreachable canopy of the leaves above, which is where Kurogane felt his consciousness leap when the hot, tight, wet mouth began bouncing up and down his erection, wrapping tight around the tip and savoring it with shameless delight.

 

Fai had a way of moaning the same way he did when he was enjoying a meal. He also had a way of making it very clear he enjoyed, not the taste alone, but the texture and the shape as well. He suckled at it, he let his lips tighten so as to feel the smooth tip beneath the pressure of his hungry palate.

 

Mostly he enjoyed hearing Kurogane break into a string of grunts and swearwords. “Nghh--a--ahgh--fu, fuck, fucking mage, ahh--!”

 

Score.

 

Of course, this was merely a distraction... a warmup so as to get Kurogane in the right mental mood, which, for Fai, consisted in being two parts aroused, one part shocked, and one tiny part incapable of intelligent thought.

 

He enjoyed the ride there. It involved a succulent, salty, big dick being sucked until he’d felt the first taste of precome about the tip, the soft flavor of arousal, which almost always was coincidental with Kurogane’s breath hitching and with his hair-squeezing turning into a somewhat ineffective fumbling.

 

That’s when Fai pulled away, and took advantage of the way Kurogane’s body and brain fought over this turn of events (his body relaxed with the reprieve, and his brain demanded blood be spilled over this refusal of pleasures that had been going on barely seconds before.) He straightened up, rolled Kurogane about, making sure he couldn’t use the opportunity to fumble out of his underwear, and mounted him-- one hand rushing to pin Kurogane’s hand against the ground while the other went down to remove his own pants.

 

“Agh-- mage, wh--”

 

“Shhhh...”

 

It wasn’t a forceful hush. It wasn’t sharp, it wasn’t firm.

 

It was complicitous and promising all at once. It was the sort of tone used by someone who is about to get you into trouble, but is hoping to convince you that it will be worth it. More importantly, it was delivered over Kurogane’s nape, which made the hairs there stand on end...

 

Kurogane froze and swallowed hard.

 

“Ku-ro-rin...” Fai chimed, mouthing his nape.

 

Kurogane heard something-- a pop? A wet sound... his keen senses recognized it as the small vial that the mage carried for whenever moments like this could happen (admittedly, he carried all the time.)

 

Then, after some fumbling, a soft kiss to Kurogane’s nape, and two hands coming over to rest on his shoulders... not only pinning them down (and urging Kurogane to bend his back slightly) but providing a steady, lulling massage.

 

It was a good way to lower his guard and make Kurogane settle.

 

Here’s how you penetrate a big, frightening, one-armed, red-eyed ninja:

 

By being Fai D. Flowrite and lacking the necessary self-preservation instincts not to shout “Whee!” as you push your long dick against his ass and plunge in.

 

It always got Kurogane too flustered to do anything but grunt, roar, and calm down. Took his mind right out of social mores and anxiety.

 

And then, after taking sufficient time to let yourself enjoy the tightness of that hot, bronze-skinned god of war you’re dating (and in the Fai Manual for Homosexual Intercourse, you are expected and encouraged to let yourself roll your eyes heavenwards and do as goofy a face as you can), you grab hold of his hips.

 

Tight.

 

And then you tug your hips back and pound.

 

Kurogane grunted, hissed, and punched the ground with his hand, only to groan in pleasure prior to the next thrust.

 

Fai did this without restraint, and by this point his face took a far less comical look. A content, if somewhat lazy smile, and a mixture of hunger and adoration put a spark in his eye. He sometimes even licked his lips, which Kurogane could audibly hear, and said things in his own tongue that had to be obscene.

 

No translation required. A sound like that just couldn’t be decent.

 

Kurogane’s knees bucked. His thighs were so hard and tense that he could sometimes feel the muscles twitch, and his rump pushed up to press against the mage.

 

He got a firm thrust as a reward. And more alien words. They made his ears color.

 

And that is how, for minutes on the go, Kurogane felt all the tension in his body slowly moving down to be scrubbed, fucked away by the mage. And as Kurogane’s climax approached, one more - and very important - element of wordless communication, of intercultural understanding, was reinforced on him.

 

After all, he knew this from before.

 

Fai was very sweet when his lover came, cooing the gentlest indecencies to his ear. Sometimes, even with Mokona around, they didn’t translate. Every culture is different, especially in the most delicate or intense situations, where they show the words that rarely go into the dictionary, and closest to heart.

 

Also, this was the time he learned those words were apologies for the fact that Fai’s people had considerably higher sexual endurance, and that he would still be pounding his rump while Kurogane was groaning in exhaustion onto the palms.

 

That much was thankfully lost in translation.

  
  


 


End file.
